


Seven Summers

by helens78



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Drabble Series, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-04
Updated: 2004-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Galahad and Gawain's relationship developed over seven summers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Summers

**1\. Fourteen**

"Who's the boy?"

"His name's Galahad. He's from the south. Fourteen summers, I believe."

"So old?" Gawain asked, and it was difficult to tell whether or not he was teasing. "Does he know anything yet?"

"Knows how to stay in his saddle," Bors snorted. "Don't think he's done much else. But he didn't complain of anything along the way."

Gawain, nodded, assessing Galahad. "Suppose we ought to start sooner rather than later. Swords first, you think, or bow?"

Bors squinted at Galahad. "Bow first," he said. "Once he gets a sword in his hands, I doubt he'll put it down."

* * *

**2\. Fifteen**

"Good. Again."

Galahad grunted and walked back to his starting position. "How many times are we going to do this?"

"Until I say stop," Gawain answered. "Ready?"

No. Not that it mattered. _Right, parry, dodge, thrust,_ meeting Gawain strike for strike until sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging and making him blink.

And the moment he blinked it was over. Gawain knocked his sword away. Galahad muttered a curse.

"_Again_."

"_Yes_, I know, again!" Galahad yelled, retrieving his sword.

Gawain stopped him. "Angry?"

"Somewhat!"

"Then we're done. Anger isn't your ally yet."

"But--" Galahad sighed. "Tomorrow, then?"

Gawain grinned. "Tomorrow."

* * *

**3\. Sixteen**

Sixteen summers and he was old enough to join the other knights in battle. In two years, he'd learned enough not to be a hindrance on the field.

"Stay close to Gawain," Arthur ordered. Galahad nodded. The knights drew swords and waited for Arthur's command.

"_Now!_"

It was exactly what he expected: fight or die, kill or be killed, duty and self-defense. Galahad would never revel in battle. But he was good at it. He survived. And like the rest of the knights, he came away wanting something rough and life-affirming.

"Gawain...?"

Gawain was off with Tristan, of course. _Damn._

* * *

**4\. Seventeen**

Galahad was where he always was after fighting: alone, in as much privacy as the rocks afforded, taking ease by himself while everyone else was busy.

Footsteps at an inopportune time made him growl and jerk himself upright. He growled more when he saw Gawain.

"Shouldn't you be with Tristan--?"

Gawain crouched at Galahad's side. "Join us," he murmured. "You'd be welcome."

Galahad blinked. "Both--" It was too much to think about. "No. Thank you."

"You don't need to be alone. Tristan can wait, if you want me to--"

_Pity._ No. Galahad shook his head.

"Another time," Gawain offered.

"Perhaps."

* * *

**5\. Eighteen**

Galahad's palms scraped against bare rock. The rain came down hard enough to wash away blood and dirt, but they'd be muddy again by the time Gawain was through.

This time it wasn't pity. It was lovers reminding each other how alive they were. They'd been lovers for eight months, not just bedmates the way both of them had been with others but _lovers_. Tied together through friendship and care, not just momentary need.

Galahad arched back against Gawain, biting off growls and moans, trying not to cry out too loudly. There was something to be said for momentary need.

* * *

**6\. Nineteen**

"When this is over you'll come home with me," Galahad said. "And I'll introduce you to my sisters. My father will love you."

"And your mother?"

"My mother will wonder why I'm not giving her grandsons," Galahad muttered. "But..."

"Maybe you should."

Galahad stared at Gawain, speechless.

"Maybe I should go home and marry a beautiful Samartian woman and--"

"That isn't funny," Galahad interrupted. "Don't joke."

"Who says I'm joking?" Gawain said, and he did indeed have a perfectly straight face.

For about ten more seconds.

Galahad punched him in the shoulder. "So you'll come home with me."

"We'll see."

* * *

**7\. Twenty**

"I still want you to come home with me."

Gawain didn't answer. But Gawain had said very little in the last two weeks. Dagonet, Tristan and Lancelot gone. Arthur married. Bors considering the same. Marriage was no joke anymore, and Gawain had stopped teasing about it. There were decisions to be made.

"You'll be welcome in my home," Galahad said. "With my family. Please--"

Still no answer; Galahad was starting to grow worried. Gawain walked off, as he'd done during many discussions lately. There were things he wasn't ready to talk about. Redefining home, it seemed, was one of them.

_-end-_


End file.
